


If Love is a Game

by PR Zed (przed)



Category: Take That
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:43:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/przed/pseuds/PR%20Zed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard has a plan.  Jason may, or may not, cooperate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If Love is a Game

"Jack high straight," Rob said as he laid his cards down with a flourish. "What've you two got?"

"A pair of threes," Jason said, his mouth turned down.

"I've got nowt." Howard threw his cards back in the pile without turning them over.

"Thank you, gentlemen." Rob raked the pile of American dollar bills off the table with a grin. 

"You had to ask Rob about poker," Jason said as he sat back in the sofa with his arms crossed and glared at Howard.

"It was only a bit of fun, Jay." Fun and something more, but Howard wasn't about to reveal that quite yet.

"Fun for Rob, you mean."

"Don't be like that, Jay," Rob said. "I've had all of 40 dollars off the pair or you. Tell you what, sushi's on me tomorrow."

"The good sushi?" Jason looked a bit more cheerful. "Not just from that takeaway place 'round the corner?"

"The really good sushi," Rob agreed as he stood. "And now that I've got all your money, I'm going back to the hotel. You coming?"

"No," Howard said quickly before Jason could answer. "I wanted to go over a couple of BV ideas with Jay. We'll be over later."

Jason looked at him with an expression that told Howard he wasn't quite forgiven and that Jay didn't know what the fuck he was on about, but he didn't contradict him. Howard flashed him a quick smile in gratitude and relief.

"Well, don't stay up late, you two. We're meant to be back here tomorrow at the crack of ten-ish. Gaz has some new backing tracks to try on us all."

"We won't." Howard had to restrain himself from shooing Rob out of the studio control room where they'd set up their impromptu poker game. "See you tomorrow."

"Cheers." The door shut on Rob, and Howard finally let himself breathe freely. That was part one of his plan accomplished.

"BVs, Howard?" Jason looked at him, one eyebrow quirked, his mouth sceptically twisted. "Since when do you want my help on BVs? You and Gaz usually work on them together."

"Well, I did think of a good harmony for your voice in The Flood." He retrieved the pile of cards and began to shuffle it. "But I thought the two of us could play a last game of poker before we head back to the hotel." He cut the deck and placed it deliberately on the table between them.

Jason's eyes narrowed and he looked at Howard suspiciously. Howard did his best to look completely innocent.

"Rob's completely cleaned us out. What are we meant to be playing for?"

Howard leaned back in his chair and gathered his courage, even as he tried to look completely nonchalant. This was it: moment of truth.

Nearly twenty years he'd known this beautiful bastard, and for nearly twenty years they'd been flirting, playing off each other in a way that looked like teasing but wasn't. Not on his side, anyway. He couldn't say for sure what Jason thought about it all. Bloody muppet never said a word, did he? 

In the '90s he'd been too scared to do anything about the way he'd felt. And since the reunion, their timing had been shit. He'd had his daughters to look after, and had been involved with their mothers, and all the women between and after. And Christ only knew what Jason had got up to. There must have been a few women and one or two men in his life, but he'd never talked to Howard about any of them. Howard only knew the pangs he'd felt every time he'd seen a picture of Jay snogging some girl in the pages of The Sun. He could only imagine how Jason had taken it every time Howard had ended up in the News of the World.

But that was all in the past. Rob was back in the band, they were all recording together, and it was a clean slate for all of them. At least that was what Howard told himself. That was why he was going to take a risk tonight.

"I've got two words for you." He paused for effect. "Strip poker." Howard forced himself to breathe as he waited for Jason's reaction. It was slow to come. Jason stared at him closely for a minute, blinked once, swallowed, and then quite slowly and carefully licked his lips.

Over the years Howard had made a close study of the way Jason licked his lips. There was the considered lick, made when he was working on an especially interesting or difficult interview question. There was the nervous lick, the one he'd seen most often when Jason was about to perform a lead vocal. There was the mischievous lick, the one he used when he was about to take the piss. This was none of those. It was slow, and it was deliberate, and Howard had only seen it when Jason was on the pull. No, that wasn't quite right. He'd only seen this particular lick when Jason was aiming for seduction, when he was marshalling his not inconsiderable charm to conquer the latest object of his affection.

Howard felt his mouth dry out and his heart rate triple. As much as he wanted this, he suspected he was about to get far more than he'd ever bargained for.

Jason didn't take his eyes off Howard as he smiled, his expression more predatory than Howard had ever seen from him before, leaned forward, and picked up the deck of cards. 

"Alright, Howard. But I have to warn you about something." He split the deck and expertly riffled the two halves together. "I'm going to be playing to lose."

  


* * *

Mark saw the clothes before he saw the bodies.

He'd woken up ridiculously early, itching to get into the studio, to poke around with a few lyrics and to plunk out a few melodies before the rest of the boys made an appearance. They'd been planning this for ages, and been back in the studio for a few weeks now, but he was still so excited to have Rob back with them, so eager for it to go well, and so grateful that they'd all managed to sort out their differences, that there were times he felt he could have worked 24 hours a day and still had energy to spare.

He'd swiftly showered and dressed, had bacon and eggs, though sadly not beans, in the hotel coffee shop, and headed to the studio.

As he stepped into the control room, he saw the t-shirt Howard had been wearing yesterday draped on a computer monitor, his jeans thrown over the control desk, and Jason's underpants tossed onto the coffee table, surrounded by what must have been a full deck of playing cards scattered all over the surface. (It wasn't until much later that he'd reflect on how most people couldn't look at a pair of underpants and know immediately which colleague they belonged to, but that was just part of life in Take That.)

There was a snuffling sound, and Mark's gaze was drawn to the couch. At first all he could see was Howard's bare back, his curly hair even more unruly than usual, a ratty blanket Mark thought he'd seen in the studio storage cupboard pulled up over his bum. Underneath him was Jason looking squashed, his one arm wrapped around Howard's lower back.

Mark made a noise somewhere between a gasp and a squeak, and Jason's eyes snapped open. He wore an expression that reminded Mark of the time he'd caught a chocolate-smeared Elwood finishing off the last of the Easter bunnies he and Emma had hidden in the pantry.

"Shit," Jason said.

Mark couldn't help it. He laughed.

"You've had an interesting night."

"This isn't what it looks like," Jason blurted out.

"It looks like you played strip poker and then shagged Howard." Mark had had years of practice identifying what debauchery had happened the night before based on the debris of the morning after. And this wasn't even one of the more challenging times. The weirdest had been in the '90s, finding Rob passed out in a tutu with a giant stuffed bear, a case of champagne, and a pineapple. They'd had some explaining to do to the hotel management after that one.

"Okay, it _is_ what it looks like," Jason admitted. Howard picked that moment to shift and moan and lift his head out of the crook of Jason's neck.

"What looks like what?" he croaked out, then looked up and saw Mark. Unlike Jason, he didn't turn a hair. He just blinked once and grinned. "Hi, Mark."

"Good morning, Howard."

"Is it morning?"

"Yeah. You two want coffee?"

"That would be fantastic." Howard started to push himself up off the couch and Jason, but Jason put a tighter grip on him and the blanket and held him down.

"You're not getting up. Not when we're both stark naked under here."

"There's nothing I've not seen before," said Mark. Jason ignored him.

"Besides," Jason continued, "how can you both discuss coffee as if nothing's happened?"

"It's not that nothing's happened. It's just that it all makes sense," Howard said in a tone of voice that was as reasonable as Jason's was hysterical.

"And it's only what we've all been waiting to happen for forever," Mark added. Jason's jaw dropped, and even Howard looked a bit surprised.

"What do you mean?" Jason asked.

"You do know that Mike runs a pool on whether the two of you will get together every tour, don't you?" 

Jason turned positively white, but Howard looked very interested.

"I wish I _had_ known that," Howard said. "I could've made a killing."

"Bastard," Jason said, giving him a swat. 

"I'll get the coffee and let you two sort yourselves out." Mark turned to leave them to it. As he emerged from the studio onto the streets of New York, he had a momentary pang, an instant of wondering "what if." What if he and Rob had talked properly all those years ago? Not that he regretted how things had worked out. They both had wives they loved, and Mark wouldn't trade his children for anything.

Those two upstairs, though, they really did belong together. Everyone else knew it. He was just glad they'd finally figured it out themselves.

Smiling, he set off to Starbucks. Fancy coffees all 'round, he thought. He didn't think even Jason would object to whipped cream and caramel sauce to celebrate the arrival of this day.

* * *

Jason waited until he heard Mark close the door of the studio, and then he buried his face in Howard's chest.

"I'm never going to be able to face Mark again."

"Don't be daft, Jay. This isn't even close to the most embarrassing thing we've done."

"Name one other."

"The clown makeup. The Do What You Like video. The wanking contest."

"That was you and Rob," Jason insisted.

"Yeah, you keep telling yourself that," Howard said before continuing. "That bloody exercise show. Every single Relight costume." Howard kissed the top of his head. "You're in Take That, Jason. Being embarrassing is what we do."

"Shit." He raised his head, and Howard looked down at him with a smile that was everything Jason loved about him: kind, and loving, and just a bit mad. "Why are you so calm about all this?"

"You were calm last night. It's my turn this morning."

"I wasn't calm last night. I was terrified." And he had been. Years he'd wanted this man, but he'd long since learned that wanting didn't always lead to having.

"Well, you didn't show it." Howard shifted until he could lean in and kiss Jason. A real kiss, with scratchy beards and morning breath and a warm deep heat that Jason knew he could lose himself in. Had lost himself in last night. But now wasn't the time for that. He reluctantly pulled back.

"Don't start anything we don't have time for." He raised his hand and stroked Howard's cheek with his thumb. "Mark'll be back with the coffee soon enough. And Gaz is liable to turn up any time."

"I suppose you're right," Howard said. He gave Jason a last quick peck, then slowly rolled off him and stood, naked and completely unconcerned about it. Jason couldn't help but admire the sight.

"You _are_ beautiful, you know," Jason said, his voice a low, fond whisper.

"So are you." Before Jason could react, Howard reached out and flicked off the blanket that was covering the last of his modesty.

"And irritating." Jason made an unsuccessful grab at the blanket before he reluctantly sat up and began scanning the room for his scattered clothes.

"I'm never." Howard gave him a grin as he pulled on his pants and reached for his jeans.

"I'm going to regret this, aren't I?" As he pulled on his pants, Jason could hear the doubts starting up in his head. All those reasons he'd come up with over the years as to why this was an extremely bad idea started making themselves known yet again.

"No," Howard said, his voice as forceful as Jason had ever heard it. "No, you're fucking not." He finished putting on his t-shirt, then grabbed Jason's wrist and pulled him in close. "Time you stop doubting yourself and you stop doubting me. Because it's going to work. And it's going to be fucking brilliant." Then Howard kissed him, a kiss that made every other one last night and this morning pale in comparison. A kiss that banished every doubt, every ounce of insecurity, and every last bit of embarrassment.

Until he heard a cough, and turned to find Gary standing at the entrance of the control room, wearing an expression that wasn't surprise, but annoyance.

"You two couldn't have waited for the tour?" Gary said as he crossed his arms. "I was sure I was going to win the pool this year." 

Afterwards, Howard told Gary he was lucky that it was only his trousers Jason had thrown at him.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**trope_bingo**](http://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) challenge. Trope used: game night. Thanks, as always, to my first reader, the lovely [soundofthesurf](http://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofthesurf/pseuds/soundofthesurf), and to m. butterfly for making sure all the commas were in the right places. Extra big thanks to [milfiepumpkin](http://milfiepumpkin.tumblr.com/post/44252863657/that-happens-when-you-read-a-good-fanfiction) for the marvellous illustration.


End file.
